Until Death Do Us Part
by Sunset's Crying
Summary: I never had a chance. From the moment I saw your eyes, I was gone. Two-shot
1. Miku: Haunted

Sooooo I was trying to update stuff and this popped up instead. Yeah...

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Vocaloid in any way, shape of form

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The first time haunted me the most. The sky was dark and it was raining. Coming out of the convenience store with a bag full of milk and tampons, I saw you. Well, I saw your eyes. They were such a bright blue, like the color of aquamarines. Crossing the street, talking on a cell phone, the wind whipped across your umbrella and while struggling with the flailing metal, your eyes happened to meet mine. Freezing at the doorway, I watched your lips part in the darkness, rounded with surprise. Assaulted by the rain, you smiled shyly at me, pink cheeks illuminated by the glow of your phone. And then a car hit you. Your blood splattered against the sidewalk and washed away in the rain. Crumpled in the middle of the road, your eyes met mine, weak and glossy. I blinked and in that second you died.

I was already obsessed by the second time around. I constantly found myself dreaming in tones of aquamarine, bright, dazzling and faded by the rain. It never really made much sense but then again, most dreams don't. Bleeding into my life, I wore the color every chance I got, making it a running joke to all who knew me. On that specific day, I was late to work. Bread hanging haphazardly out of my mouth, I quickly crossed the street, awkwardly fixing my jacket while still holding onto my briefcase. I failed to notice the truck. And as its horn blared and the sun glinted harshly off of its fender, I felt a pair of hands push me from behind. Flying forwards, I heard the undeniable crush of bones and the shrill sound of a woman screaming. As blood seeped under my knees, I looked back and saw you. Taken over by a sense of déjà vu, your eyes met mine, weak and glossy, the exact color from my dreams. Smiling weakly, your hands, covered in blood, twitched and then you died.

The third time around hurt the most. For reasons even beyond myself, I was severely over-cautious of crosswalks. Some of my friends found it hilarious. Others found it annoying. They called it a waste of time. As if something would actually happen. I never did learn how to drive. Instead, I took the metro. But that is irrelevant. However, many things in my life were irrelevant apparently. Like my hand fetish. As it turned out, many men don't expect the reason for a breakup to be unsatisfactory hands. But like I said: irrelevant. It had been a long day. The subway was overcrowded with the evening rush. Waiting on the platform, I could hear the train rushing up. The crowd shuffled with an impatient sort of rowdiness and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of gold. Entranced by the color, my eyes followed the movement and watched as you fell into the path of the train. Aquamarine eyes wide with fear, your hand reached toward mine. Blindly reaching for it, your hair glowed under the artificial light and when another body held me back, I screamed as your fingers ghosted over mine because that was how you died.

By the fourth time around, I could barely keep myself together. I was scared of cross walks and trains and rainy days and the colors aquamarine and gold and sometimes hands. Waking up crying more times than not, I suffocated on fears I couldn't even remember and every day hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and I didn't know why and I hated myself for not knowing why and I just wanted it to just stop. I just wanted to stop. Standing on the rooftop, the world looked so small, so insignificant, so useless and with my arms held out, I prepared to fly, to die, goodbye. But the door to the rooftop rattled and slammed, bouncing violently off the wall, vibrating with stifled energy. That was how you arrived. Hands on your knees, panting out of breath, your eyes, so blue, looked at me, desperate and pleading. Your voice, so loud and ragged, yelled out "WAIT!" So I did. Standing on the ledge, I waited because that was what you wanted and I would do anything to stay another second with you. You were a stranger. But I knew: all I ever wanted was you. Reflected in your eyes, I remembered, I could see it, flashing lights and bustling crowds and your eyes, bright and dying, once, twice, three times. I remembered your hands, covered in blood, always out of reach and oddly enough, your hair, the sort of gold that haunted me for no reason at all.

Clutching me to your chest, I could hear your heartbeat, beating louder than my screams. Pulling me off the ledge, you cried as you whispered, "Please don't die" and I realized that I hated you. I hated you for dying, for always leaving me behind, your blue eyes capturing me, and dying and dying and dying, your hands close but never close enough. There were so many words I wanted to say to you. But I couldn't remember any of them at all. All I could comprehend was that I never wanted any of this. But these feelings, inconsequential, tumbled unabashedly from my heart, splattering uselessly on the ground, spread between us both. Drowning in my tears, hanging from your arms, you plead with me to "please stay alive" because "I want to know your name" and goddammit none of this is fair but I want to know it too, who you are, what you are to me, the reason for these messy feelings in my chest.

Shoving you away, your hair caught the light along with my eyes, so bright, like spun gold. Holding me tight with hands just right, you looked at me with eyes the color of aquamarines. Tearing pouring down your cheeks, you smiled and said, "I love you." And oddly enough, I could feel it and I knew that somehow, I loved you too. It would last until death did us part.


	2. Len: Second Chances

FF is looking kinda weird today lol. Anyways, here's the end. I wish these two the best, even as I continue to mess with their fictional lives.

As always, thanks to everyone who has read and supported this story, along with my favoriters and followers. You guys always make me so happy. ^^

\- Sunset

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Vocaloid in any way, shape of form

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The first time was...tragic. I'm not sure if that's the best way to describe it…but that's the best I can come up with. It's like this: before I met you, I was tired, tired of the week, my job, the constant overtime, the people I had to deal with. I was tired of coming home to an empty apartment and microwave meals. I was tired of my life and all that was entailed within it. It felt empty and grey. Absolutely pointless. Before I met you, I was merely drifting, surviving, but not actually "alive." The day I first met you, it was raining. Pounding heavily against the asphalt, I could only stare for a moment before digging out an old umbrella from the bottom of my bag. Flipping it open, I remember standing there and listening to the drops fall heavily on the material. I'm still not sure why. Maybe…just this once…I'll call it fate. It was then that Rin called. Chattering so brightly from the other side, it was hard not to be jealous of my twin who seemed so much happier than I was. What did she do right? What did I do wrong? I still don't know. I remember crossing the street. The wind picked up and my umbrella flipped inside out. Fighting desperately with the tangle of wires, that was when I first saw you. Well, to be specific, I saw your eyes. They were bright and teal and absolutely perfect and would it be stupid to say that I fell for you on your eyes alone? And then a car hit me. Ramming into my body, pain filled my entire being and I knew, without a doubt, that we were never meant to be. But then your eyes met mine. And as you stared in shock, I couldn't do anything but desperately wish for a second chance.

The second time was bittersweet. I was sitting in the park one day, reading a book. I leaned back to stretch and by chance, I saw you. You were a stranger. Petite with trailing teal colored hair and matching teal eyes to boot, I immediately knew it was you. Or the idea of you. Perhaps the memory? It's hard to explain. But that's not the important part. The important part was that I had to talk to you. I had to, at the very least, know your name. In a weird and overblown sense, it was like…my purpose in life, as pathetic as that sounds. So I watched you. Not in a creeper or stalker like way of course. Just…mindful. Paying more attention to my surroundings, I cataloged all sorts of small tidbits of you, a silent preparation for when I finally did speak to you, it wouldn't be completely awkward…if that makes sense. In some messed up way, I think that was how I fell in love with you. But on that day, well, let's say, that on some level, I don't regret it. If anything, I hate myself for hesitating. I saw you crossing the street, your long teal hair flying wildly in the wind. Struggling with your blazer and briefcase and a piece of bread, you didn't seem to realize that you stepped right into the path of a truck. I'll admit it: I was scared. All I wanted was to know your name. I didn't realize yet that my feelings were one of an idiot in love. But I couldn't let you die. I couldn't! So I figured...I reasoned…..that maybe…my true purpose was never to learn your name. It was to save you. I was meant to save you. So I did. Running after you, my hands shoved against your back and you were warm. As you went flying, I felt a familiar pain that was in no way pleasant and in that moment, I simply hated the world for being so cruel. Fading out, the last thing I saw were your eyes, wide with panic. And even then, you looked beautiful. No. I don't regret it. I could learn your name some other time.

The third time was infuriating. I felt lost. I was looking for something but I didn't know what that something was. I wanted to know something. I was waiting for something. I wanted something. I wanted it so much. But I didn't know what that _something_ was. Nothing felt right. Everything felt out of place, like I was missing a few pieces before I even started. I was weirdly attracted to teal. Teal eyes, teal hair…Rin used to make fun of me by calling it a weird ultra-specific fetish. But it didn't feel that way either. I just…I don't know. I was on the subway with a friend that day. We had messed up our timing. We got packed in with the evening rush. Thrumming with condensed energy, something just clicked. It was you. You were the one I was looking for. You were the one I wanted to know about. You were the one I was waiting for. The one I desired. It was you. Standing at the edge of the platform, your hair was tied up in twin tails and it simply felt so, so, right. I was moving before I knew it. Maneuvering the crowd, all I could see was you. You were so close. With you, everything would finally make sense. Because surely, you were looking for me too, right? I was so close. So painfully close. But then some guy shoved me, the bastard. I fell out too far. The train was coming. You looked so scared. Your fingertips ghosted over mine and I swore that next time, I'd meet you for sure.

The fourth time was a mess. It was all so sudden. I woke up one day and there were flashes of you. Laughing, smiling, drenched by the rain, waiting at the station, crossing the street, eating bread, walking with your friends, sitting at a café, screaming in despair…Just like that, you invaded my head, heart, my entire being and it hurt. It hurt so much. I was hurt because I had managed to forget. But at the same time, I knew, without a doubt, that I was ruined. Absolutely ruined. Because I remembered: I remembered dying and living and dying and living and dying over and over and over again and I knew that from that moment on, I would live my life chasing after you once again, possibility failing, possibly dying and all for nothing. All. For. Nothing. I hated you. I hated you for ruining my life, for destroying my sense of normal, for somehow being able to catch my heart over and over with just a single glance. Did you even know who I was? Storming out my door, angry at the world, myself, at you, I broke out into a run. I ran and I ran and I ran, away from you, away from what my life would inevitably become. And somehow, still, I made it to you. Standing on the rooftop, out of breath, out of mind, I had somehow made my way to you. It wasn't fair. I was so ready to tell you off, to get the fuck out of my life, to stop haunting me. But then I saw you. Really saw you. Standing out the ledge, with your arms spread wide, your eyes looked so broken and I simply couldn't understand. I couldn't believe that _you_ were the girl so hell bent on ruining my life. So I yelled the first thing that came to mind. "WAIT!" And you did. You waited. You eyes met mine, such perfect teal orbs. So fucking beautiful, it simply wasn't fair. Standing there, looking at me, you smiled at me, like a doll barely held together and screamed.

Standing at the edge of the roof, the edge of the world, you screamed with so much pain, so much anguish, tears pouring out of your eyes and it simply wasn't fair. It really wasn't. Wrapping my arms around you, we fell back and you screamed and screamed and there were so many words I had wanted to say to you. So many words. But in the end, I said none of them at all. "Please don't die." I whispered. "I want to know your name." Because goddammit all, I never wished for any of this. I never wanted this for you or for me. All I ever wanted was a second chance. And as much as I hated you for twisting something so innocent into something so horrid, I knew that the truth was something else entirely.

Let's be honest here: the truth is stupid. And annoying. And absolutely irritating. Like many things in life, it makes absolutely no sense at all. But that's how it is. Because life is messy and nothing ever goes how it should. So when it comes down to it, my truth is and always will be this: "I love you." Even if death does us part.


End file.
